It was my first year of university. I had taken the year off after grade 12 to find myself and found instead that I hated menial jobs and wanted further education. Anywho, this was Introduction to Performance class with Prof. Blake Taylor, about forty people to start with. Lots of characters.
Dancing Kim - Wouldn't stop dancing or talking about dancing. Ever. Blake would be lecturing and she would start twirling. I kid you not.
Cool Nick - Nick is cool. Snide, sarcastic and cool. He's going to do films and "you can be in them... Syke!"
Ryan - "Hey, where's my cell phone? WHERE THE HELL IS MY CELL PHONE??? WHO THE HELL TOOK MY oh here it is. (five minutes later) Hey, where's my..."
And there was Mel. Laughing, Smiling. Making friends quicker than I could blink. Being cool without being someone else. In a room full of personalities (dance kim, dance!) Mel stood out.
We went through the usual theatre exercises to both break the ice and work on skills, slowly getting to know eachother. I made sure I got to know Mel. But I didn't know if she was single dammit! There should be some sign maybe, a particular hairstyle that says "if you ask me out, there won't be that big awkward pause. you know - the uhhhh........... actually..." So I sidle up to a girl she's made friends with, Arwen Smith
"Uhhh, I THINK she does, but I'm not sure-sure, you know"
GAHH! Arwen, could you be less specific and more anguish-inducing. But a few more questions (slyly phrased, carefully introduced) and my early hopes were dashed. Fine, we'll be friends. Good friends. Great friends. And who knows...
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